Rapture
by Your Angel of Music
Summary: A physical reminder of Christian's misspent youth results in reminiscing, reflection, sex, a discussion about religion, more sex and some serious deliberation on the true meaning of a nipple ring. Written to celebrate Chryedville's 200th Thread.


**Title:** Rapture  
><strong>Author:<strong> MercuryPheonix (Your Angel of Music)  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M - sexual situations. Also, references to nipple piercings that may shock the uninitiated.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> A physical reminder of Christian's misspent youth results in reminiscing, reflection, sex, a discussion about religion, more sex and some serious deliberation on the true meaning of a nipple ring.

**A/N:** This was written as a celebration of the indefatigable WFCTGIO/Chryedville - well done, congratulations and a big raised glass of champagne for reaching Part 200! A more dedicated and loving fandom I have never had the good fortune to meet. It is also inspired by the revelation that Johnny Partridge was once the proud owner of a nipplen ring. I hope to have encapsulated as much of what makes Chryed as special in this fiction, as well as capturing the true essence of Johnny's right nipple. As such, this fiction is dedicated to **Cookie** - here's to many more nipple filled discussions, my dear!

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><p><strong>Rapture<strong>

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As strange as the idea might have seemed, to anyone on the outside of their own unique bubble, it was only really during Ramadan that Syed and Christian had sex in the early hours of the morning.

That's not to say that they were missing anything for the other eleven months of the year. On the contrary, it was only since they'd been together _properly _that Syed had come to realise that there was nothing better than waking up quietly in the same bed as Christian; the arm that was loosely slung across his hip, the soft breath in his ear, the messy kiss that was pressed against his shoulder as the alarm stirred them from their sleep…

During his fast, however, that same alarm was set several hours earlier; waking them long before sunrise in order to give them time to haul themselves from the bed and eat before the sun came up.

As an unavoidable consequence, the knowledge of a painfully early start would urge them into bed as quickly as possible of an evening. Following the breaking of Syed's fast at sunset, all thoughts of passion and heat were pushed to the wayside in favour of grabbing as much sleep as they could before the inevitable shrieking of the alarm. And no matter how many times Syed had insisted that Christian try and catch some more sleep whilst he ate, the older man had never once been persuaded back into bed; preferring to sit with his fiancé, too tired to eat but completely unwilling to leave Syed at the table alone.

And, although he would never show it, it tugged something warm in Syed's heart with each stubborn refusal.

They'd never planned it. In fact, before he'd built this new, freer life with Christian, the thought had never even crossed Syed's mind.

But there was something about waking up early that led to…well…the realisation that they had _time_, and that that time could be spent in making up for all the lost daylight hours. Ramadan wasn't just about giving up food during the day, after all – and, during that month, those darkened early mornings were their only chance to fulfil that hunger that had nothing to do with food.

It was a different kind of sex; the slowly creeping awareness gradually taking them as they moved together, all the stresses that would normally have accumulated not yet intruding into their heads. There was an odd sort of charm to the tired fumbling, the messy kisses and the chaotic coupling. It was, they had realised, possibly the only time when it was truly just _them_ in the bed: no worries, no over-worked thoughts and no daily distractions – just _them_, together, helping each other into an actually-quite-pleasant wakefulness.

As such, morning sex brought with it a strange sort of hazy focus – a tendency towards noticing that which would, in any normal circumstances, have passed them by unnoticed.

Like the strange, almost undetectable anomaly on Christian's right nipple…

…normally unnoticed amongst the frenzy of _here-now-oh-god-more-please_, in the darkness Syed could feel the slightly raised skin, a tiny pinprick of differing texture dancing acutely beneath the tip of his tongue.

Something in his sleep-addled mind found it intriguing, an emotion akin to wonder sparking sharply through his synapse. He raised his head, barely noticing the tiny, disappointed groan that slurred between Christian's lips as he pressed the tip of his finger against the strange curiosity. Blinking a few times, he let his eyes adjust a little more to the dark; as his vision began to focus, zoning in on the spot, he made out the tiniest flash of white standing starkly against the dark hair that adorned Christian's chest.

"What's this?"

It was a few moments more before the question registered in Christian's mind – the deadly mixture of sleep and Syed's tongue having produced a substantial blockage in his brain – but, once it had, he propped himself up on his elbow to follow the intensity of Syed's gaze.

"What?"

Syed brushed his thumb over the spot, eliciting the tiniest of shivers from his fiancé as he grazed the sensitive skin.

"This," he looked up, catching Christian's gaze in the darkness and beckoning with his eyes so that they were both focused on the phenomena in question. "It looks like a scar."

His fingers traced Christian's flesh, incessant curiosity filling his eyes as he spread the skin around the spot, as if desperate to understand this part of Christian that he had never known existed. A tiny smile tugged Christian's lips as he watched, one hand still tangled in Syed's hair, playing gently against his scalp as his eyes drank in the sight before him.

Not for the first time in the past year, he wondered how he had gotten this lucky – how he had not only fallen for this gentle, kind and endlessly surprising man, but gotten him against all the odds that had been flung in their direction. They'd had their issues, he knew that, and their conflicting personalities and flaws would continue to foster troubles of their own making – but they had made it and they would continue to make it.

There wasn't much certainty in his life – but that, _that_, was one thing that he _was_ sure of. And, although he was loath to resort to a trite gay reference to explain his emotions, he couldn't help but think it:

Whatever happened, _they would survive_.

"Christian?"

Syed's dark irises had flicked back to Christian, his face wearing an open, un-guarded expression that made Christian's heart leap - the young man spent so much time weighing and assessing, his mind working frantically as he tried to make everyone happy, that it was only really in these rare moments that Christian got to see him so relaxed.

"Hmm?"

A mock sigh fluttered from Syed's lungs as he poked messily at Christian's nipple.

"This…" _– jab – _"what is it? It looks like…" he stopped suddenly, a smile tap-dancing across his lips as he fixed Christian with a _look_ – the kind of _look _an exasperate mother gives a wayward child. "Christian…tell me you didn't…"

He was cut off mid-sentence as Christian clumsily hooked an arm under his armpit, hauling him up and depositing him on the bed beside him with a half-hearted _whump_. The mattress squeaked beneath them as they moved, Christian wrenching himself up so that he could lean in over his stunned fiancé; one hand pressed against Syed's chest, fingers splayed out across the darkened skin as he hovered above him.

"What if I did?"

In the darkness, Christian felt, rather than saw, Syed wrinkle his nose slightly.

"Nothing…it's just…"

"What?"

Syed raised his hand, spreading his fingers almost protectively over Christian's nipple – almost as if it were being threatened and he was its saviour.

"A nipple ring? Seriously?" he did that thing with his thumb again, brushing the coarse pad over the sensitive area of skin; forcing Christian to suppress yet another tiny shiver that threatened to run down his spine. "Why? You don't need it. And it's…well…a bit…y'know?"

There was a moment of silence before Christian shifted, the hand that had been firmly planted on Syed's chest moving to cup his face. His fingertips tickled lightly through the hair that fell over Syed's ear, his face moving downwards ever so slightly until they were almost touching – almost, but not quite..._not quite_….

"It's just a left-over from my wild and wayward youth," Christian licked his lips, brushing a loose strand of hair away from Syed's forehead; the way he did when he was distracted, or thinking, or just in an absent-minded sort of mood. "It was a long time ago."

Despite the cobwebs of sleep still clinging to his vocal chords, the words were final – like a full stop at the end of a sentence, halting all discussion.

That, and the fact that he leant forward, pressing a messy, open-mouthed kiss to Syed's lips: that cut things pretty short.

Syed responded almost immediately, his fingers trailing lazily across Christian's chest as he let himself be pressed back into the mattress. The last vestiges of unconsciousness still had him in a firm grip - and he was grateful for that. As much as he'd never have expected it, he _loved_ sleep-addled sex. He loved the messiness of it; the chaos, the clumsiness. He was aware that a slightly zoned-out grin had plastered itself onto his face as Christian pulled away, the fingers that had been twisted in his hair – feeding the strands between his fingertips as if they were comfort blanket – moving away to rummage in the bedside cabinet.

As Christian returned with the sought-after tube clenched lightly in his fist, Syed shifted his head, twisting gently so that he could look him in the eye.

"Tell me about it."

Christian stopped, his thumb frozen over the cap as he looked down curiously.

"About what?"

"This," Syed flicked his nail lightly over Christian's nipple. "All of it. I wanna hear about it. Tell me. Please."

Christian's tongue snaked out to moisten his lips, his weight shifting slightly on his aching arm as he considered the goofily smiling man beneath him.

"You're sleep deprived."

"I'm serious," Syed weakly thumped Christian's chest, the grin on his face belying any serious intent behind the action. "You've never told me about it."

"I didn't think it would interest you."

"It does."

Christian sighed, dropping the tube onto Syed's stomach so that he could rub his eyes tiredly.

"We can't now, Sy. We don't have time. You have to eat."

"I can eat afterwards."

"Sy…"

"You can talk right now," Syed fumbled in the dark, retrieving the partly-opened tube and pressing it into Christian's hand. "Go on. You're good at that."

The silence hung in the air as Christian stared, his eyes flicking between Syed and the object clasped between his fingers – as if he was trying to read something that wasn't actually there.

But then he blinked, popping open the cap deftly with his thumb and gently nudging Syed with his thigh. Syed quickly complied, shifting onto his side so that he felt the broad expanse of Christian's chest pressed snugly against his back.

"What do you want to know?" Christian grappled in the dark, the plastic tube almost sliding from his slippery fingers as he made to toss it from the bed. Syed stifled a laugh, the _huff _of air cut short as Christian put a lifetime of honing his skills to practical use. Syed's eyes slid shut, his hand reaching back to dig his fingers into Christian's hip. A smile stretched the lips that hovered just behind his ear, warm breath skittering across his skin as Christian's fingers did things to him that would have made him blush had it not been so damned _right_.

"Well?"

"Um," Syed dug his nails further into Christian's skin, that strange of mix of _stop-now _resistance and _more-please_ sensations ricocheting through him halting the path between mouth and brain. "I dunno…just…_it._"

"_It_?"

"You know what I mean…you…you're past…the…what's it called?…_the scene_…" Syed shifted slightly as Christian probed deeper, unsure as to whether he was pulling away or urging him to a better angle; with Christian, like this, it was perhaps the one time that uncertainty was the best thing in the world. "You never told me about you, what you did…what it was like…I…" – a shape intake of breath – "…you know everything about me, and I wanna _know_."

Christian felt the strain resonating through Syed's voice, a sleepy grin still creasing his face as he burrowed his face against that sensitive spot between his fiancé's ear and neck.

"All you had to do was ask."

"Wanted…_you_...to tell me…" Syed groaned quietly, the sound sticking in his throat as Christian pulled his fingers away. A calloused hand pressed against his thigh, squeezing gently and urging his leg up slightly; encouraging him to hook his ankle up and over Christian's, opening him up as Christian moved slowly forward.

"You'd have loved it," he whispered softly in Syed's ear, his hips inching forward slowly as he let Syed adjust to the stretching, changing, pushing movement inside him; Syed made that low, stuttering groaning noise in his throat again, the sound catching hold of Christian's senses as he struggled to maintain some sort of fumbling rhythm.

"Beautiful boys…everywhere you look" – _thrust…breathe_ – "a world like you can't even imagine…and there's no limits to anything…you can be _anything_…_do_.." – his hips snapped forward with a sudden unexpected energy, forcing a sharp noise from both of their mouths – "…_anything_…_anyone_…you want to do…"

Christian loosened his grip on Syed's thigh, his hand sliding up the clammy, sweat-slicked skin to rest on his chest; the tip of one finger fighting through the stuck-together hairs, spreading and teasing against the sensitive skin of his nipple.

"This…" – there was another groan as he pressed down gently with his nail – "it's a part of it…a new world…a new life…you become a part of it…you change yourself…like pain and pleasure all at once…you become _it_ as much as it becomes you."

Somehow, in between the stuttered breaths scraping harshly across his windpipe, Syed managed to prise his fingers away from Christian's hip – following the path that the older man had cut for him, until their fingers were messily intertwined just above the tingling nub of Syed's nipple.

He didn't even try to speak.

He knew he couldn't.

He didn't want to.

He just listened to the timbre of Christian's voice, each syllable grabbing hold of his tired body and manipulating it to its own glorious ends.

"And then…" as Christian breathed in, the damp locks of Syed's hair caught onto his lips like creeping tendrils. "And then you lose yourself…its like…a religious…_shit_…a religious experience…a rapture…you're everything, and nothing, all at once…and there's nothing…_nothing_…like it…"

They came suddenly, before Christian could finish speaking - a hopeless tangle of stuttering hips, breathless gasps and clawing fingers. Christian pressed something that was less a kiss and more a wet groan against the back of Syed's neck, the reverberations travelling through into the weary-yet-brimmingly-alive synapses of Syed's brain.

"Well…" although quieter, Christian's voice retained that gravelly, guttural tone it had taken on in the throes of passion. "There's not much like it, anyway."

A kiss – a proper one this time – was pressed against Syed's hair. The younger man swallowed, tongue snaking out to moisten his dry lips as he remained balanced at the very pinnacle of his orgasm.

A part of him felt like he should say those words – _I love you_ – but for some reason he couldn't get them out; in this state, post-orgasm _and _this early in the morning, he didn't feel he could string together the right words to do justice to the depth of those feelings. He needn't have worried. Christian's hand tightened in his own, pulling his back flush against the sweat-slicked chest and letting him know that the sentiment was known…was accepted…and was shared.

"So…" his voice was shaking, endearingly so; Christian felt he could listen to that tone all day if only Syed would let him keep him here. "Your wayward youth?"

"Like I said," Christian mumbled against a mouthful of hair. "A _long _time ago. I was in the throes of my misspent youth when you were still in nappies."

He tugged himself bonelessly away from Syed's furnace-like figure, tugging the loose mess of quivering flesh with him so that they were sprawled over each other on the bed. For a few minutes, the world was reduced down to nothing but the few feet they encompassed – a time-lock filled to the brim with lightening breathing and cooling temperatures, a universe of _them_ encapsulating the bed as they let themselves wake up from the shattering wave of endorphins that had crashed over them.

Eventually, however, the sound of bird song broke through their post-coital reverie.

Christian raised his head, one arm still slung over Syed's waist as he squinted towards the curtain.

"Sy," he nudged the younger man with his thigh, eliciting an unhappy grunt from the tangled mess beneath him. "It's almost sunrise. You need to eat."

It was as if something had been switched on in Syed's head; his eyes opened suddenly, blinking in the darkness as he twisted to glance out of the window.

"Oh, yeah…I should…"

He bit his lip suddenly, chewing thoughtfully before turning back to glace up at Christian.

"When you said…" he stopped, his fingers drawing idle circles on Christian's thigh as he fought to find the right words. "I mean…you said it was like a religious experience…I don't…did you mean that?"

Christian held his gaze in the darkness – god only knew how, but Syed could feel it burning intensely into his irises – the hand that wasn't supporting their weight brushing softly through the hairs at the back of Syed's neck.

"Yeah. I did."

"But…I don't…"

"I had nothing, Sy," fingers swept over Syed's damp forehead, tucking the clumpy strands behind his ear before brushing through to his scalp. "That world…it was my _everything_. Like you…you have your faith, your beliefs, your rituals, a whole world that gives you something when nothing else can – well, so did I."

Christian smiled suddenly, curling his fingers around the back of Syed's neck; drawing him into the softest of kisses before pulling back and propping himself squarely back against the wall.

"We're not so different after all, you and me."

There was a beat as Syed let the words sink in. Christian didn't quite know what to expect – anger, maybe, perhaps even accusations that he had belittled the faith that he knew meant so much to his fiancé – but any fears were quickly assuaged by the sudden grin that split Syed's face.

"I can think of one major difference."

Christian opened his mouth, confusion spilling from his lips – but, before he could respond, Syed had ducked down, his teeth closing around the nipple that he had been so closely inspecting a little while earlier. Christian barely succeeded in suppressing the unmanly squeak of surprise that threatened to explode from his throat, his body jerking away from the wall as the teeth tightened around the sensitive flesh – it was painful, but not quite painful enough for him to want it to stop.

Eventually – or was it too soon? – Syed released him, blowing cold air over the tender spot before beginning the long, awkward clamber from the bed to the kitchen. As he did, however, he turned back, a wicked glint shimmering in his eye as he nodded towards Christian quietly throbbing chest.

"I am _never_ getting one of those…"

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**Fin**

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><p>There we are. Who knew a simple attempt at Nipple!Crack!Fic could extend into such a monster of a thing? I hope you enjoyed it. I have suffered for it. I spent many long hours studying close-up pictures of Johnny's nipple in order to write this, as well as doing a lot of reading up on Ramadan - well, Chryedville is a place where that which seems most different collides in the most beautiful of ways!<p>

Note: **Cookie**_ - is the nipple sufficiently licked/pinched/teased/bitten for your liking? _


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